


tomorrow's yesterday

by starsurge



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Feels, M/M, Mutual Pining, battle trip, post disbandment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-07-24 00:57:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16170311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsurge/pseuds/starsurge
Summary: Woojin doesn't expect to be on the same trip with Jihoon two years after Battle Trip.Nor does he expect to have Pandora's Box be opened that holds all his feelings and regrets back from a certain other Park.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: this might be set in the idol universe but... like, without the sasaengs

_And my friend Woojin,  
_ _  
I love you so much.  
  
_ _I’m proud that you and I are Wanna One and it is such an honor to me.  
  
_ _Let us always be together._

   
\- pjh.

 

 

 

 

 

Woojin shouldn’t be surprised to receive a message by Park Jihoon on his birthday.  
  
Except that the message isn’t just a simple standard _Happy Birthday, I hope you have a good day!_ text but one laced with nostalgia; too personal and with a tint of yearning to be passed off with a court but short _thank you_.  
  
It’s three in the morning, he has to be up in two, and here Woojin is: trying to outrun the shadows of his past that are catching up to him real fast.  
  
He should be happy, ecstatic even, that despite the rift between them, Jihoon remembered a promise that had been made back in the days.  
  
Back when they were younger, unknowing, and positive about the future.  
  
Falling back onto the mattress, Woojin closes his eyes, wills the world and the responsibilities and expectations placed upon him away.  
  
In that indefinite moment, he’s just Park Woojin.  
  
And somewhere else, he knows, is Park Jihoon.  
  
Two boys that ended up confiding in each other their pure dreams that have been bent and broken with blood, sweat and tears. Stripped away from their innocent youth-like ambitions, gone through hell and back in the industry that’s a fight of teeth and claws.  
  
They had each other and that was all that counted. In each other’s company, they could bask in being just two boys who had shared sentiments, same mindsets, worries and struggles that every other teenager has, multiplied. That only them, two boys of same age, could understand.  
  
Jihoon and Woojin understood each other on the deepest level; to their truest selves.  
  
As fate works, they were torn apart with the blink of an eye, still chasing for their goals. Never giving up, still running on the path that’s a field of thorned roses. Putting their lives on the line just to achieve their dreams.  
  
To reach the highest highs, one has to give up parts of themselves that are dear to them.  
  
In that mere moment, Park Woojin was just Park Woojin. Park Jihoon was just Park Jihoon.  
  
In the next moment, they’re Park Woojin, a member of the popular rookie group from Brand New Music, and Park Jihoon, an up and rising rookie actor.  
  
They’re worlds apart despite sharing the same dream; it was their wings that took them higher, as much as it is their personal downfall.  
  
Woojin opens his eyes again to face the reality in front of him; darkness that swallows him, no blinding flashlights that surround and suffocate him almost every minute, every second of his life.  
  
He brings his phone to his face again; blinks away the bright light that hurts his eyes. That’s familiar; what he’s used to.  
  
Jihoon, so he thinks, was familiar, too.  
  
And maybe, in a minuscule corner of Woojin’s heart, he still is; has never stopped being.  
  
Woojin reads the message again, and again, and decides that maybe, promises are meant to be broken.  
  
Just not this time around.

 

☄

   


_Park Woojin! My Love Sparrow!  
  
_

_Happy birthday to my partner in crime, the other half of Bunssodan.  
_  
_It’s been long, hasn’t it been? I miss you.  
_ _  
I hope you’re eating well, and taking care of yourself always. Don’t be too rough on Daehwi when you’re playing around with him. You’re not as weak as you used to be.  
_  
_I’m sorry I couldn’t surprise you with a cake in your face at midnight. Hopefully Donghyun hyung and Youngmin hyung took care of that in my spot.  
  
__Ah, I don’t know where this is supposed to go.  
  
__It must feel awkward to read this, right?  
  
__Trust me, it’s even more awkward for me.  
  
__What I’ve meant to say from the beginning on…  
  
__do you remember our promise? That we made when we were in Wanna One?  
  
__Feels like it’s been forever, lol.  
  
__It’s just. You and I are officially 21 now all over the world.  
   
__That’s a milestone to celebrate!! We have to celebrate, too!!  
  
__Do you remember? The promise we made back in April?  
  
__Text me back if you still want to do it.  
_

 

_Your Love, Hoonie_

 

☄

   


Woojin wonders how he let himself be roped into a two days trip the following April.  
  
He’s currently waiting in front of Yongsan station for his travel partner, who’s arriving fashionably late as always.  
  
If it was any other day, Woojin would playfully yell at Jihoon to move his pretty ass faster.  
  
Today’s different. To be honest, it hasn’t been like “any other day” for a good two years.  
  
Looking down at his watch, Woojin feels as if the digits mock him for his nervousness. _7:30_ in the morning, it reads, which is admittedly only a tad bit earlier than agreed. His manager had dropped him off before racing to a schedule that the middle aged man needed to attend; and so, Woojin has no other choice but to wait.  
  
Not much has changed around this area, Woojin muses. People come and go, rushing into the train station with a tunnel view, no time to slow down and take in what’s surrounding them.  
  
It feels a lot like idol life. In these past three years Woojin only went forward, and forward, and _forward_.  
  
For once, in this never-ending whirlwind that he has been thrown into, time halts and gives him a chance to breathe.  
  
Only to have the air knocked out of his lungs when he spots Jihoon from afar.  
  
Two years down the road and nothing has ever changed within Woojin when it comes to Jihoon. It’s almost embarrassing how the older boy still has the same old effect on Woojin; holds so much power over him without being aware.  
  
Jihoon, so he notices first thing, has matured even more over the years. Defined cheekbones, baby fat completely gone; jet black hair parted in the middle, revealing a part of his forehead, while his strands fall messily into the rest; jawline so sharp it could cut with the slightest touch, a noticeable weight loss from the last time Woojin has seen Jihoon months ago.  
  
His natural cuteness is subdued and his features have sharpened, giving Jihoon more of a handsome look, it's clear that the boy standing in front of him is not the one that Woojin had the pleasure to meet about three? four? years ago. No traces left of Park Jihoon, the wink boy from Produce 101. Who wore mismatching shoelaces with no care in the world, dressed up in an all-pink jumpsuit, and loved berets to death.  
  
Woojin, so he supposes, has grown in his own ways, too; grown out of an image given to him, matured and shaped into the person he is now.    
  
Albeit sometimes, it’s easier to fall back into the safety net of familiarity.  
  
Maybe that’s the reason why Woojin gets sucked right into the vast galaxy hidden in Jihoon’s eyes; never losing its spark, always shining as bright as diamonds. So many times before has Woojin lost himself in his universe, falling and falling, without ever reaching the deepest depths.  
  
Jihoon’s eyes always have a new story to tell.  
  
Today, it’s a story of new-found hope.  
  
“You don’t need to gawk so much, I know that I’m handsome.”  
  
Woojin outrights groans at Jihoon’s first greeting in what feels like months. (It probably is.)  
  
“I’m not one of your fangirls, dumbass, cut down on that bullshit.”  
  
It’s how they’ve always been talking to each other, but for some reason, it feels off. Awkward to run his mouth at Jihoon, despite the other’s snark.  
  
Interesting what time does to one.  
  
“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Woojinie~” Jihoon bites back with a cheeky grin on his face, but Woojin feels that he has put up a guard. Even if just invisible, almost non-existent, the distance between them lingers, and holds them in a grasp.  
  
Woojin can only pray and hope that the awkward tension between them diffuses quickly before their trip turns out to be one Disastrous Mistake™  
  
“I’ve got something for you.” Looking up in surprise, Woojin watches Jihoon fiddle with his black backpack– a rather slim one, nothing compared to the monstrous ones he used to have, littered with all kinds of fansite stickers and pins– until eventually, he pulls out three little flags.  
  
At the sight of the items, Woojin feels his heart swell with nostalgia.  
  
White and pink, blue and pink, yellow and pink; yet they have all one thing in common: the _Bunssodan_ print on it, their faces a finishing touch.  
  
It had been a gift by the fans. Woojin didn’t expect Jihoon to keep them over the years truth to be told.  
  
“You really want to go down the memory lane, huh?” Woojin finally jokes around and takes one of the flags to put it into the side of his backpack as a flagship. Just like they had done back on their first trip together.  
  
When he looks up again at Jihoon, he swears that the other’s cheeks are dusted in a muted pink.  
  
“No. I want to make new memories with you.”  
  
Caught on the spot, Woojin is too speechless to respond, mind jumbled in a mess.  
  
He turns around and squeaks out an embarrassing “let’s go”, wondering when and how their roles have changed– Jihoon is now the shameless one, while Woojin can’t even save his own life for good.

 

☄

   


They take the train at 8:25.  
  
It’s a relatively silent ride. Just a few minutes in, Jihoon falls asleep, his head lolling onto Woojin’s shoulder as if it’s what he’s been seeking for.  
  
His own comfort zone that Woojin can’t possibly deny the other boy of.  
  
Woojin, on the other hand, has been put on edge. Tensed, and alerted; hyperaware of every little jolt whenever the train takes a turn, ears attuned to every little breath that’s so calmly escaping Jihoon’s lips.  
  
The two hours are spent idling away on his phone while trying to accommodate to Jihoon’s comfort.  
  
He’s glad that they don’t have to spend the time in awkwardness with pregnant pauses in between every word. It’s what they’ve come to after years of radio silence– at least that’s what Woojin thinks.  
  
Overthinking is what he’s been doing ever since the message back in November.  
  
And it honestly really fucking sucks.  
  
He just wants to go back to– to being _them_. Two best friends who were bickering day in, day out, were mean to each other and played roughhouse just for fun and their competitive spirits’ sake. Two best friends who orbited around each other as if they had a special force field that had them gravitating to each other only; who cared for each other so deeply that no one could even think them apart _ever_ ; and who told the most mundane everyday experiences to say _thank you._  ( _I_ _love you_.)  
  
What’s holding them back, he wonders. Is it the time that has passed; the distance from the separation that made them drift apart?  
  
Or is it because long buried feelings are resurfacing, forcing to be heard?  
  
Woojin wonders and thinks–  
  
He has arrived at square one again.

 

“Wake up, sleepyhead.”  
  
Throughout the whole ride, Jihoon doesn’t even stir from his slumber once, despite the uncomfortable position or the ache in his neck.  
  
Yet Woojin didn’t have the heart to wake him until they arrived at the end station.  
  
Jihoon’s blinking up sleepily at Woojin to get rid off the sandcorns in the corners of his eyes. Which, if Woojin may say so, has him resembling a cat quite a lot.  
  
Don’t get him wrong, really. Woojin hates it whenever Jihoon– or anyone else in this case– acts cute, but… for some reason, it has his heart fluttering.  
  
(He knows exactly why.)  
  
There’s not much time to think about the little action, though. They’re ushered out of the train, with Jihoon lazily dragging his tired body behind Woojin. Knowing that they have to wait about two hours for the bus to Hadong, they decided once again to grab some food at the fancy restaurant that they’ve visited last time around.  
  
It’s a twenty minutes drive by taxi and they’re back at the place that has caught their attention with just one visit before.  
  
Holding the door open for Jihoon, Woojin takes in the interior, noticing how nothing has changed at all.  
  
As opposed to last time though, the restaurant does have a few guests already lingering around, waiting for their early lunches.  
  
It’s not too busy yet, thankfully, and they find a table at the corner of the room, allowing them a beautiful panoramic view from the huge windows.  
  
“What should we eat today? Everything’s so good here.” Woojin contemplates loudly while looking at the menu again, his eyes raking over the somewhat limited choices.  
  
There’s nothing that his stomach is yearning for in particular; yet his mouth is already watering from the strong but pleasing aromas filling up the air of the room.  
  
“Mhh. What we ordered last time was really tasty, don’t you think so?” Jihoon does make a strong case, though Woojin is surprised that the other boy still remembers their order clearly.  
  
Albeit good food is hard to forget, he muses.  
  
There’s a thought suddenly crossing his mind; setting them up into a déja-vú moment, almost.  
  
“Let’s make a bet again.” He grins at Jihoon, snaggletooth peeking out in a taunt. It must be the familiarity– the magic of the throwback that they’re experiencing in present time– that gives him the courage to talk normally to Jihoon again. Something, that has become a whole new sensation to them.  
  
Tilting his head to the side, Jihoon gives the other boy an unimpressed expression, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth. “You always lose our bets, don’t you know better by now?”  
  
Despite the truth that the statement carries in itself, Woojin merely brushes Jihoon’s fake concern off and crosses his arms in front of his chest in protest. No way is he going to admit to his unlucky streak and back out on his own idea.  
  
Even if Woojin is setting himself up for a loss.  
  
“Anyway. It’s about who pays for the meal.” Woojin proposes and lets his eyes flit across the room, eventually resting on the waitress that is coming up to their table. A light bulb suddenly flashes in his mind. “If you manage to get a free drink from the waitress, I’ll pay. If you fail, it’s your turn to pay.”  
  
He’s met with a mocking snort from Jihoon, whose lips turn up into a smug smirk, eyes glistening with the sure knowledge of victory.  
  
“Better get your wallet ready, _Park_.”  
  
With a snap of his fingers, Jihoon’s face contorts into one brimming with innocence; sharp lines softening out, his round eyes going big, gaze coy from under his long and pretty eyelashes.  
  
It’s an expression that’s nothing new to Woojin and yet–  
  
He falls for Jihoon’s puppy eyes every damn time. As any other sane person does, obviously.  
  
Even the middle-aged waitress seems to fall under Jihoon’s spell right away; stuttering over her words, barely getting out her practiced lines for newly arrived customers.  
  
Jihoon already knows that victory is all his.  
  
“Good morning, _noona._  I hope we aren’t a bother so early into the day for such a hardworking lady.”  
  
She– _Minah_ , her name tag reads– waves it off quickly with a _not at all_ , erupting into small giggles that she tries to hide behind her hand. As well as the blush that creeps onto her healthily round cheeks, Woojin notices offhandedly.  
  
Woojin, on the other hand, fakes a gag, much to Jihoon’s displeasure. It can’t be helped considering how sleazy Jihoon already sounds. It is almost, as if he had taken lines out of Daniel’s textbook on how to charm just about any moving and breathing human being that isn’t up on the trees in three seconds.  
  
For a brief second, he wonders how Jihoon doesn’t turn red and abashed at the words his mouth is spewing out. Then, it hits Woojin again, that Jihoon works in the movie industry, and that it’s important to an actor to keep his composure.  
  
“I have a question, Ms. Kwon.” Deliberately, Jihoon leans forward, squinting his eyes cutely to read the characters on the name tag, and chooses strategically to call her by her surname first.  
  
As expected, the waitress takes the thoughtfully laid out bait.  
  
“Oh, please. Just call me Minah.” She insists, flashing Jihoon a pretty and charming smile. “I feel so old otherwise.”  
  
Together, they’re sharing a round of good-willed laughter, and all of a sudden, Woojin really does regret starting this stupid bet for old times sake.  
  
“Ah, Minah _noona_. I’m so indecisive, can you help me out?” Jihoon carries on, voice taking on a saccharine tone.  
  
Woojin almost experiences whiplash from how quickly the waitress bends down to look into the menu, her face a tad bit too close to Jihoon’s for Woojin’s liking.  
  
But who is he to stop Jihoon after roping him into this stupid challenge when Woojin should have been perfectly aware of how it’d spur on Jihoon’s highly competitive spirit?  
  
“I can’t decide what I want to drink! Should I just go with plain water? I’m already breaking my diet rules with what I want to eat, though.” Blinking up cutely at the woman in charge of their order with a small pout, Jihoon knows that he has positively swept her off her feet. “I’m eyeing the red grapes lemonade, though. Ahh, what do I do…?”  
  
His last asset is to bite down on his lips cutely, making himself resemble a chipmunk. It’s so obvious how the waitress can’t stop staring at Jihoon, but she catches herself after a moment or two to scribble down something on her small notepad.  
  
“Don’t tell anyone, but maybe the lemonade will go on the house.” She whispers into Jihoon’s ear, loud enough that Woojin can pick up on it, and the smile that breaks out on Jihoon’s face reeks of satisfaction.  
  
“It’s really not needed, Minah! Though, I’m really grateful for your wonderful service.” The praise has the waitress flushing red, a clear sign that she has managed to develop a small crush on Jihoon within just a few minutes. “Now, shall we order our food, Woojinie? I think the one paying should do this.”  
  
Woojin barely manages to suppress a rude eyeroll, instead opting to kick Jihoon under the table for good measure.  
  
At least, everything is falling into place again, and once they’re left alone, Woojin feels like he can go back to what they used to be.  
  
No more awkwardness weighting them down– only the familiar yet estranged freespiritness fills them up again, brings them back to times when they were able to joke around, laugh together, and be simply _themselves_.

 

Excellent food and a comfortable atmosphere seems to work as the icebreaker between them.  
  
“How have you been lately?” Jihoon asks curiously in between his munching on noodles and meat fritters. It’s a question asked out of interest, meant to catch up on Woojin’s life. Definitely not an attempt to force small talk.  
  
They’re okay again– and that’s all that counts.  
  
“Busy. We just wrapped up our comeback circle.” Thus they’ve been given a few days off to rest; falling perfectly in line with their planned trip. He doesn’t know what he’d have done if not given the chance to spend time with Jihoon again– after all, he had promised him all those weeks ago.  
  
“Ah, yes. I’ve downloaded your new song onto my phone.” Unlocking his mobile with his other free hand, Jihoon taps onto the screen a few times until he’s showing off that he was indeed telling the truth.  
  
Woojin is surprised that Jihoon would even keep up with his promotions– but then reminds himself that he has been following Jihoon’s appearances on TV as well.  
  
“I’ve been keeping up with your drama, too.” He says while scooping another bunch of noodles onto his chopsticks, his eyes downcasted onto his bowl to purposely miss out on Jihoon’s reaction. “It’s so weird to see you as a romantic main lead.”  
  
“Pfft, I’ll let you know that I’m the best when it comes to love matters.” Jihoon instantly retorts but as soon as the words leave his mouth, his cheeks take on a shade of bright red and he falls into a flustered fit of laughter alongside with Woojin.  
  
It feels good to be able to joke around again. Almost comforting to know that– despite the years that have passed– nothing has changed fundamentally.  
  
Truthfully, as seen, Jihoon is still as embarrassed as ever to slip into his role; his role to be soft, cute, cheesy.  
  
And Woojin? He can still tease Jihoon for that; all while being blessed enough to witness Jihoon’s natural sweet charms.  
  
Whatever has kept them apart before is gone with the gust of the wind–  
  
But nothing can sweep the _feelings_ down the drain that constrict Woojin’s throat and tighten his chest suffocatingly.  
  
He’ll have to learn how to breathe around Jihoon.    
  
If only it wasn’t so easy for the other boy to leave Woojin breathless with simply his existence alone.

 

☄

   


Jihoon prepared everything in advance once again.  
  
When they arrive Hadong, there’s already a taxi awaiting them to drive them to their next destination: The Zipline at Geumosan.  
  
Just like the previous time, the duo gets a friendly and chatty taxi driver, who tells them all about the area that needs to be told and promoted to visitors. Some things ring a bell in Woojin’s head; other trivia he has long forgotten already.  
  
It’s not like Woojin pays much attention, though.  
  
He rather stares out of the window aimlessly instead, while the man’s voice drones on and on, never quite reaching Woojin’s consciousness.  
  
What’s holding him in a vice grip is his slight acrophobia. He has never really gotten over it.  
  
On top of that, he didn’t have Jihoon with him for the past two years, who put in an effort to slowly but surely tackle Woojin’s fear of heights.  
  
“Hey.” Almost as if Jihoon has sensed the other boy’s discomfort, he reaches over with his hand, putting it on Woojin’s shoulder soothingly. “Are you okay with this?”  
  
It’d be so easy to say no and just stay on the sideline. He really doesn’t have to go on the zipline, especially considering he’s been on it before.  
  
Maybe it’s his competitive side that never wants to back down that has Woojin nodding his head at the question; giving his silent _okay_.  
  
Or maybe Jihoon’s quiet but gentle gaze ebbs away all of Woojin’s worries.    
  
“Yeah, don’t worry.” Woojin brushes it off with a wave and puts on a casual front. It’s met with a unreadable expression from Jihoon, but it quickly changes into a cheeky grin.  
  
“It’s gonna be fun. You can hold my hand until we’re up there.” Jihoon offers teasingly and the mood visibly shifts into a lighthearted one. His offer is regarded with a punch to his shoulder and a grumble from Woojin about how "he’s not a scaredy-cat”.  
  
That’s just how they’re like; they’re supporting each other, spurring each other on, but mask their encouragement with disses, and playful jokes. They still understand; they always do.  
  
After all, as it has been proven, even two years spent apart couldn’t shake their foundations.  
  
So much has happened, so much has changed, yet so much has stayed the same.  
  
To Woojin, it’s both a blessing and a curse. He wonders if Jihoon thinks the same.

 

It feels like the next few hours pass by in a flurry until time stops again when Woojin finds himself standing on the platform of the Zipline.  
  
Both Jihoon and him are buckled up in safety gear, instructed on how things work (again), and set and ready to fly across the sky (not really).  
  
While Jihoon is bouncing up and down on his spot in eager anticipation, the biggest smile stretched across his gaunt cheeks (Woojin makes a mental note to _seriously_ feed Jihoon all the food in the world at the camping site), Woojin himself can’t quite say that he’s in the same positive mindset.  
  
Yeah, sure, he has done it before; not even long ago, too, just a mere two years ago.  
  
His heart is still racing at the thought of letting himself freefall up in the air despite the safety measurements that are done.  
  
When he feels a warm hand on his shoulder, Woojin is sure that his heart almost jumps out of his throat– just like how he himself jumps from the sudden initiation of body contact. Simply because his nerves are all over the place; maybe a bit because he _is_ fidgety by nature, too.  
  
“Easy there, tiger.” Jihoon’s deep and smooth voice gets registered in Woojin’s mind, and so does his face, which impressively shows both concern and the hint of excitement. As much as the older boy’s eyes are dripping with worry, his lips seem to play a different tune with how much the corners tug upwards.  
  
“Sorry.” The apology comes out weakly, barely managing to get through Woojin’s teeth. At last, Jihoon’s lips do take upon a smile, but a consoling one that is. Jihoon may be the most useless person when it comes to voicing out his feelings, his empathy, but that flaw is compensated by how _expressive_ he is non-verbally.  
  
All it takes is a look at his eyes, softened out at the edges, to know that Jihoon is trying his hardest to calm Woojin down. That’s partly also why Woojin isn’t even mad when the only words Jihoon has to offer are, “Whatever. I just don’t want you to accidentally knock out my teeth or something with your clumsy hands.”  
  
It does the trick to take Woojin off the edge a little bit and they both fall into easy laughter, the rich sound vibrating in the air around them. Only the intervention from the worker, who’s giving them the green light at last, puts them out of their weird trance and amplifies Woojin’s anxiety again.  
  
There’s no way to back out now after all the preparations however and he finds himself seated nervously on the trolley.  
  
He dares to take a look on his right and swears that his breath hitches at the back of his throat– not from the tension that is holding him in a vice grip, but the sheer happiness that is practically radiating from Jihoon.  
  
Suddenly, it doesn’t feel like Woojin made a grave mistake by agreeing to Jihoon's idea anymore.  
  
“Don’t be scared, Woojinie!” The other boy shouts out when they’re about to be released for their ride, his neck craning to get a look at Woojin as well. “You won’t fall! I’ll catch you before that, I promise.”  
  
Woojin knows that Jihoon is talking about the physical kind of fall– the one that ends up fatal, what consumes his mind and settles the fear deep into his bones.  
  
What Jihoon however doesn’t know that there’s another implication to his words. A thought that is just as fatal and has already taken over Woojin completely.  
  
He has already fallen–  
  
Fallen in love with his best friend.  
  
And Woojin is more scared that he’ll eventually crash; that the inevitabile will happen and bring him back to the cold, harsh ground of reality.   
  
The reality that Jihoon can’t and won’t promise to catch Woojin– to be the safety net for his vulnerable feelings. To return the same love that Woojin has for Jihoon.  
  
Woojin doesn’t know if his heart plummets to his stomach from the sudden drop–  
  
Or if it’s because the hurricane of emotions is hitting him harshly again.


	2. Chapter 2

“Your caravan is this way.”  
  
Following the lady responsible for the camping place, Woojin shifts the shopping bag from one hand to another, hoping to finally get rid of the extra weight.  
  
It’s a very short footway to the caravan, which seems to be even more luxurious than the one they rented last time.  
  
Leaving the boys with the key, the lady wishes them an “enjoyable stay” and they’re finally on their own again.  
  
“I’m calling dibs on the top bunk.” Jihoon announces when they push open the door to the vehicle. He’s merely met with a short grunt that’s a poor attempt of acknowledgement, but nothing to break one’s mind over.  
  
There’s not much to marvel over inside the caravan; equipped with the necessities, it’s more than enough for the one night they’re staying.  
  
“Will you be cooking for us tonight?” Woojin looks up from the kitchen counter, halting in his movements and abandoning the groceries for a split moment. “Why, have you still not learnt how to take care of yourself?”  
  
Rather than an accusation, it’s a well-meant jab, light-hearted and done between friends. Even if Jihoon’s first reaction is to hit Woojin’s shoulder with no regards to damage, it’s obvious in his high-pitched  _hey!_ that there are no hard feelings. Just a boy wounded in his pride from a teasing callout, nothing that Woojin doesn’t know already.  
  
To appease the older boy, Woojin gives Jihoon his infamous snaggletooth smile, while resuming his dinner preparations. “I guess I’ll have to feed the piggy.”  
  
All hell breaks loose in the caravan; loud squeals and laughter fill the narrow space as Jihoon pounces on Woojin, forcing him into a play-fight. Dinner plans forgotten and thrown out of the window for the moment, the two boys wrestle each other, no mercy taken on the other.  
  
It’s how the nature of their friendship used to be; a dynamite going off, leaving havocs along their way, never to be tamed. They’re brimming with mischief, playfulness, and are comfortable enough to play around in rough, boyish ways.  
  
And as much as they’re using their overflowing energy as an outlet to have fun with each other, their roughhouse runs on the thin veil towards competitiveness.  
  
Woojin hates losing as much as Jihoon does. Thus he never fails to gain the upper-hand between them.  
  
That’s how Jihoon finds himself pinned against the counter in the end. “Two years gone and you still can’t beat me.”  
  
Maybe it’s the adrenaline rushing through his veins spurring him on, or the newly found solace; either way, Woojin finds himself shoving his face up-close to Jihoon’s with a smug grin that’s undeniably a taunt. Snaggletooth peeking out, eyes glistening with glee; a face so annoyingly gloating that it should be met with restilance.  
  
Instead, Jihoon just stares, and  _stares_ , mouth hanging open wordlessly. Woojin could swear that he sees beads of sweat forming on Jihoon’s forehead, but furthermore, his eyes stray down Jihoon’s face; over the perfect slope of his nose to his lips, forming a pretty cupid’s bow. In his peripheral view, Woojin can make out the heavy bop of Jihoon’s Adam’s apple, only indicating how nervous the other boy is.  
  
There’s so much wrong in the mere situation they’re finding themselves in. Jihoon trapped between the counter and Woojin’s body invading his personal space; the distance, or lack thereof, is tantalizing them. With just one last push, Woojin could close the proximity, and do what he’s always fantasized about doing–  
  
Yet his rationality snaps him back into reality and he pushes himself off Jihoon quickly.  
  
Silence falls heavily onto them until Jihoon clears his throat, loud and awkward. “So… dinner?”  
  
Woojin just nods his head, not trusting himself enough to get out a coherent word, and hopes that his racing heartbeat will subdue some time soon.

 

It’s a chilly late April night.  
  
Yet warmth is seeping into their cold bones with the help of self made food and alcohol flushing into their body.  
  
“Spring really is the best season out of all.” Jihoon mumbles out absentmindedly while staring up at the sky which is lit up in countless of stars. His eyes are glazed over from slight intoxication, and his natural blush deepens in its hue.  
  
Woojin is nowhere drunk enough for the onslaught of feelings that go along hand-in-hand when it comes to Jihoon.  
  
“You’re just saying this because your birthday is next month.” He throws out as a joking remark, deciding that it’s not worth it to let himself be consumed by his not so platonic infatuation with his friend.  
  
It hasn’t taken him long to get back to the game of pretend. Whatever happened before in the caravan– nothing about it matters.  
  
“Birthdays aren’t so exciting anymore when you spend them alone.” Never once does Jihoon’s gaze waver from the sky– almost as if he’s searching for an answer in the stars. Or maybe comfort? “Kinda miss our days in Wanna One. Actually, I miss them a lot.”  
  
Tension spreads between them again, thick and suffocating. Melancholy weighs heavy on their hearts, nostalgia tasting bitter on the tip of their tongues.  
  
Maybe it’s the secretiveness of the night that shifts the atmosphere into a serious one. It might also be the alcohol in their beers that has already gotten into their heads, letting their tongues run loose.  
  
Either way, they’re in for a deep talk and Woojin doesn’t know if he can take it.  
  
“Sometimes, I get so lonely in my job.” Heaving a sigh, Jihoon finally,  _finally_ , shifts his gaze to Woojin, his eyes staring directly into Woojin’s. Throat going dry at the sight, the intensity, the sparkle from the silent tears welling up in Jihoon’s eyes, Woojin feels mesmerized.  
  
His brain goes haywire and he really doesn’t know what to say. All that comes out unhelpfully is: “But you have Seongwoo hyung?”  
  
A weak smile is all that Jihoon can muster. “It’s not the same.”  
  
They fall silent for a long moment, or two, until the quietly lingering question is too demanding to ignore.  
  
“Seongwoo is Seongwoo, but he’s not you.”  
  
Woojin swears that his heart skips a beat at the raw vulnerability in Jihoon’s voice. His eyes showing only honesty and searching for Woojin’s reaction in his own.  
  
It seems as if alcohol brushes away Jihoon’s emotional constipation. He wonders if the same could be done for himself.  
  
“Ah, don’t be like that.” A weak attempt to diffuse the tension– done out of fear that Woojin might not be able to withstand the calling of his heart any longer.  
  
Jihoon is driving him crazy but the other boy isn’t even aware of the trail of damage that he leaves behind in his whirlwind of overflowing emotions.  
  
Unpredictable– that’s how Park Jihoon is.

Woojin is never prepared for what’s more to come from him.  
  
“Whenever life got too hard, you were always there for me. I could always find comfort in your arms.” Heart clenching, and mind shutting down, Woojin is frozen to his seat and can only soak up Jihoon’s words like a sponge. The latter lets out a shaky breath, tries to catch himself, before he says: “You were my pillar of support. My safe haven.”  
  
It’s unfair, really fucking unfair, how all it takes is just a few words to break down Woojin’s walls that he’s been perfectly building up ever since their past days together.  
  
Woojin’s mind is screaming at him to not let them get too close to his words. Jihoon’s just being sentimental, that’s all.  
  
Not only sentimental, no. He’s drunk, nostalgic, and blabbers out whatever comes to his mind.  
  
It only proves more how he’s not aware of his actions, and the following consequences. If he was just a tad bit more in tune with himself, Jihoon wouldn’t ever breach such sensitive issues.  
  
They’re best friends and that’s that. Only a fool would trust a drunk person’s words and fall for them.  
  
Sadly, Woojin is nothing but a fool for his best friend; his crush.  
  
“Come on, I think you’ve had enough to drink tonight.” He purposely tries to avoid the looming confrontation and focuses instead on coaxing Jihoon into bed. At least, in his sleep, the older boy is not a force to reckon with.  
  
(Yet even in Woojin’s dreams, Jihoon is haunting him and his exposed vulnerability.)  
  
Apparently, Woojin’s reprimand is enough to snap Jihoon out of his weird trance, and he dissolves into a fit of giggles out of the blue.  
  
Woojin is so taken aback, that he just stares at Jihoon, before his body joins the other in his laughter out of reflex.  
  
At least it does the trick to relieve some pressure from their chests.  
  
“Naaah, you have to get me first if you want to stop me!” Jihoon exclaims with his hand pumped up into the air gloriously before he gets up from his camping chair to run away childishly.  
  
In his haze, and boosted morals, Jihoon seemingly forgets that his body coordination isn’t the best while being intoxicated, and before he can even get anywhere, Jihoon ungracefully trips over his own feet to fall face flat to the ground.  
  
Or, well, would have, if it’s not for Woojin’s reflexes that are still quick enough catch his big klutz of a friend.  
  
“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” All but a grumble under Woojin’s breath, the words not even reaching Jihoon’s ears. It’s questionable if the other boy would even register the insults anyway. “Seriously, how did you even manage to take care of yourself the past two years?”  
  
Heaving a sigh, Woojin shifts Jihoon on his lap so that the other doesn’t crush his thighs with his weight.  
  
_Pathetic_ , he thinks, considering how Jihoon positively and effectively pushes Woojin out of loop every damn time. Woojin can never catch a break when it comes to Jihoon. Not even in the mere moment that he tried to put distance between them again.  
  
It’s almost as if Jihoon is always trying to achieve the exact opposite of what Woojin wants.  
  
“Woojinieee~” Jihoon suddenly croons out, the name slurring into an undistinguishable noise at the end. How is it possible that he’s so out of it after just two beers? Woojin has really drawn the worst cards.  
  
“What,” is all Woojin can reply before he’s finding himself in the same situation as earlier. The only slight difference is that Jihoon is trapping him by straddling his thighs, his face pushed against Woojin’s instead.  
  
From this close proximity, Woojin can count each and every eyelash, long and fluttering prettily against Jihoon’s cheekbones. He can clearly see all of Jihoon’s imperfections that make him so much more beautiful in Woojin’s eyes; the dark bags under his eyes, the slight blemishes on Jihoon’s skin, the roughness of his lips.  
  
Unconsciously, Woojin’s eyes end up staring at Jihoon’s lips, cherry-red and parted slightly in an erotic manner. It’s driving him crazy, the soft puffs of Jihoon’s hot breath on his face, the possibility that’s so easy for Woojin to reach for but–  
  
His train of thoughts is cut off when he feels chapped lips, those very lips he’s been wanting to kiss for so long, against his own, demanding yet timid at the same time.  
  
No matter how often Woojin has dreamt about that very moment, nothing could have ever prepared him for the real thing.  
  
It takes him a few moments to get over the shock, the disbelief, before he presses back, indulges in the kiss despite the red flares going off in his head.  
  
All that counts is that Jihoon is kissing him and Woojin is kissing him back. That his hands can travel freely to Jihoon’s lower back, holding onto his waist longingly to provide some support for him. They’re breathing in the same air, and Woojin can taste beer and their previous meal on Jihoon’s tongue– yet it doesn’t matter, because nothing is ever perfect, which doesn’t mean it’s bad at all.  
  
Because nothing about kissing Jihoon feels bad in the slightest; it’s Heaven on Earth if anything. What Woojin has yearned for but never dared to take.  
  
Who would have thought that Jihoon was to give Woojin his heart’s desire?  
  
Except that what he’s doing is done out of impulse and Woojin is forcefully made to crash from his high when he feels Jihoon trying to pepper kisses down his lips to Woojin’s neck.  
  
“Jihoon, stop.”  
  
Woojin pushes him away weakly and pretends not to notice the flash of hurt in Jihoon’s eyes.  
  
So badly does he want to imprint Jihoon’s face into the back of his mind; his flushed cheeks glowing even more in a red shade, his lips just the slightest swollen, eyes glazed over.  
  
What Woojin does instead is to usher Jihoon into the caravan without giving the other boy a chance to try out something funny again. (Although the previous incident is anything but funny. It’s equal to a tornado that breaks the dam to Woojin’s sealed emotions.)  
  
“I don’t wanna get up to my bed.” Jihoon finally says when they’re back inside, arms propped up on his hips. There’s that expression on him that screams nothing but  _I’m a brat! It only goes my way or no way!_ and Woojin feels it in his bones how he’s too tired to argue.  
  
Even if his heart is weeping, he’s swallowing up his ego, his broken pride and dignity, and ends up with Jihoon on the lower bunk bed.  
  
At least Jihoon is out like a light; curled up against Woojin’s side, his head buried against the younger boy’s shoulder.  
  
Heaving a sigh, Woojin wonders.  
  
Will Jihoon remember how he has mended and broken Woojin’s heart in one night? Was the kiss but just an act done on a whim or…  
  
Should Woojin dare to hope that maybe, just maybe, Jihoon too is desperate to act upon his feelings?

 

☄

 

In hindsight, Woojin thinks, it’s absolutely embarrassing that he let the glimmers of hope spread within him.  
  
Because,  _whatever_ has happened the night before, was just the inevitable result of loneliness, aching, and alcohol.  _Especially_ alcohol.  
  
Woojin has to admit though that waking up to Jihoon nestled up in his arms is the best feeling in the whole world. They’ve found themselves in the same position a few times before in the past– mostly amidst schedules that took up a whole day and there were only a few couches to nap on. It was easiest to accommodate to each other in the limited space by cuddling loosely.  
  
And really, it’s almost no different now. Jihoon was too drunk to climb on his top bunk bed and Woojin let him sleep with him in his bottom bunk bed. It’s a beneficial arrangement… for Jihoon that is.  
  
Happiness, and endearment, soon turn into bitterness. Woojin can still taste it on the tip of his tongue– the beer that they’ve drunk dominanting the flavour that had been left behind from when he had kissed Jihoon.  
  
To be more precise, when _Jihoon_ had kissed Woojin.  
  
Who knows, though, if Jihoon still remembers. Intoxication is a bad enabler that makes one do the craziest things while putting a veil over the person’s memory. Come next morning and said person will wake up with a black hole in their mind.  
  
If only Woojin could have wasted himself away, too. At least he could deal better with a pounding headache than with the lingering heartbreak that never lets go of him.  
  
Whatever. They only have one day left together before going on about with their respective lives again. He can, and will, pull himself together to send Jihoon off on a positive note later in the evening, when they’ll be back in Seoul again.  
  
“Hnng…?” A startled noise, guttural and clearly coming due to confusion, has Woojin paying attention to the boy in his arms again, who is blinking up groggily at him.  
  
It’d be a lie to say that Woojin isn’t endeared by Jihoon’s sleep-induced state. Jihoon’s hair is sticking out in all kinds of directions, previously straight hair turned into curls; his face is bloated, eyes still sticking together due to the grains in the corners.  
  
To anyone else, it’d make a comical sight and maybe, Woojin does snort at the imperfect image, too.  
  
Albeit, if anything, Woojin really is hit with a wave of fondness and giddiness. His emotions are a rollercoaster that has him going dizzy; crazy.  
  
He wonders why it’s so hard to stay mad at Jihoon. (Love surely does make people more forgiving.)  
  
“Morning, you brick.” Smooth as sailing on clear waters. If in doubt, Woojin just has to use insults to cover up any insecurities that could get into the way of their rekindling.  
  
“Wha– why am I in your bed?” Jihoon asks in a hoarse voice ridden with the remains of sleep.  
  
_Oh._  Well. It is  _definitely_ foolish to expect anything from Jihoon.  
  
“Your dumbass was too lazy to climb up onto your bed.” Woojin explains while slowly disentangling himself from the other boy. What he needs now is to– to put some distance between them. “Jeez. Do you even remember anything from last night?”  
  
He’s not even sure why he’s asking Jihoon about it. It’s crystal-clear that Jihoon remembers jackshit while Woojin is left with… all these questions, what-ifs, and doubts. Because, no matter how much he’s trying to convince himself of the opposite, a tiny treacherous part within himself is giving him hope.  
  
Almost desperately Woojin wants to cling onto the sliver of hope that the kiss means just as much to Jihoon as it does to him.  
  
“Uhm.” Jihoon chokes out imbecilically, while his eyes dart all over the room with the clear purpose to avoid Woojin’s intense gaze. “Maybe… err… some things?”  
  
Basically a code word for:  _Nope, I don’t, but I’m trying to not look too much like a monkey.  
  
_ Woojin just hums in fake acknowledgement and drops the topic promptly. He tries very hard to stay neutral,  _normal_ , as so to not raise any suspicions about his weird behavior. Which does turn out to be futile considering that Woojin wears his heart on a sleeve, and that Jihoon knows how to read him like an open book.  
  
In either case, Jihoon doesn’t mention anything about Woojin’s sudden passiveness or his mood drop, and lets the younger boy go on about their morning quietly.  
  
They wash up quickly– Woojin first, Jihoon second. While Jihoon is in the small bathroom, Woojin makes sure that everything is put back in place to distract his mind that is going at 100 miles per second.  
  
It’s fine, totally cool, that a dumb drunk kiss won’t put a strain to their friendship. Since only one party remembers the occurrence, they won’t have to tiptoe around the fuck-up. Woojin can easily pretend again considering that they aren’t living together under the same roof anymore.  
  
It’s cool, really, totally doesn’t suck or breaks his heart. He’ll just go back to texting Jihoon once maybe every four months and delude himself until his brain labels the kiss as merely a figment of his imagination.  
  
Woojin has done this before– slapping duct tape on his broken heart to hold it together. After December 2018 when they moved out from the dorms and bid their farewells unwillingly. He had known that their lives would take them like a storm, but it didn’t make it any less hurtful to hear almost nothing from Jihoon for weeks, months even.  
  
Albeit he’s already sure that this time, the pain will be more severe.  
  
“I’m– uh– ready to go.” Jihoon suddenly speaks up timidly while fidgeting around in his spot. In all honesty, Woojin hasn’t noticed his presence lingering around, which might be contributed to how Jihoon is actively trying to make himself appear smaller.  
  
Strange, Woojin thinks, but he’s too mentally exhausted to get to the roots of Jihoon’s nervousness around him.  
  
“Aight. Let’s go.”  
  
On to the cherry blossoms path.  
  
Life’s irony at its best.

 

☄  
  


It all comes down to their walk on the cherry blossoms path.  
  
Truthfully said, the atmosphere between them is thick and awkward. Almost like at the very beginning of their trip; except, that this time around, it’s a different kind of tension. Tension, that could set off any moment; explode into a blazefire that takes casualties in its fatal attack.  
  
There’s something very strange about the whole situation, however. While Woojin tries to put a considerable distance between them, Jihoon is clinging to him without any care in the world.  
  
Yet Woojin can feel it. The desperation in Jihoon’s iron grip, the urgency in how he’s dragging Woojin along by his arm.  
  
It should be a comfortable walk on which they can admire the beauty around them. Except that it’s anything but that.  
  
They’re just a mess, a trainwreck, amidst the figurative embodiment of love.  
  
Jihoon has once said that if a girl and a boy walk this exact path, they’ll stay happily together until old age.  
  
So why does it feel like they’re walking straight into a bullseye for their grande showdown instead?  
  
“Okay, what the fuck.” Woojin suddenly hisses out and shakes Jihoon off himself with quite some force. “Can you, like, give me personal space?”  
  
Perhaps his words come out sharper than intended. He can see Jihoon shrink into himself from the scolding, while biting down on his lips nervously. As if he’s swallowing back something that he wants to say but doesn’t have the guts to anymore.  
  
Which is understandable, surely. Even if Woojin tends to be a broodling volcano whenever he gets mad, he never tips over the edge. That’s an attribute fitting Jihoon being quick-tempered and making his anger loud and clear.  
  
It’s a whole other situation– a role reversal in other words.  
  
“Sorry.” Just a whisper carried into the wind and barely reaching Woojin’s ears. In lieu of a verbal acknowledgement, or a question, or _anything_ , all that comes out is an ugly chuckle. Disbelieving, almost breaking off into a dry sob.  
  
He doesn’t care anymore if there are people around, or passing by, that could be the bystanders of their argument. What he doesn’t realize is that they’re at a rather secluded place, with almost no one around, especially not at such an early time of the day.  
  
“Sorry? Just sorry? For what, huh?” Woojin spits out, his tone taking on his heavy Busan accent. In his flared up state, he couldn’t give a single shit that he’s falling into old habits.  
  
Before he, however, delves into a word vomit bathed in venom, Woojin bites on the insides of his cheeks to hold back his slithery tongue. Sure, there’s a lot he wants to add. What he thinks that Jihoon should be sorry for.  
  
The kiss. The false hope that has been given to him. And yet–  
  
Woojin can’t put the blame entirely on Jihoon because it’d be selfish. It’s not the other’s fault that he doesn’t reciprocate Woojin’s feelings.  
  
It tires him out to the bones. Even though he was on the verge of an outburst just a moment ago, he can’t find it within himself anymore to get worked up. To let Jihoon get a taste of his own medicine. It’s not what he deserves– not what Woojin should do as a best friend.  
  
So, he draws himself back; shoulders hunched, face crestfallen. Silence falls over them heavily– all that can be heard are Woojin’s drawn out sighs; defeated, exhausted.  
  
Due to his inner turmoil, Woojin hasn’t noticed that they’re standing so closely to each other that their breaths mingle together; with Woojin hovering over Jihoon, the cherry blossoms twirling around them to create a kaleidoscope of pale pink and white.  
  
“Woojin.” It’s just an exasperated sigh; tired, void of the flame to fight. “Is this about what I did at the camp?”  
  
Jihoon’s voice comes out thin, barely treading on the line to crack. There’s a tremor in his speech, and furthermore wrecking through his body, but he’s balling his small hands into fists to keep himself steady.  
  
Trust Jihoon to never back down despite the odds.  
  
“I’m sorry, alright. For not telling you that I remember everything.” Jihoon continues, stepping closer until there’s almost no more distance between them. “I’m not sorry for kissing you, though. It was a conscious decision, is this what you wanted to hear?”  
  
At this point, Woojin has drifted his gaze away from Jihoon, but the older boy reaches out with his hands to tilt his head back. Their eyes meet and that’s what Woojin has been most afraid of.  
  
To lose himself in Jihoon’s eyes that are the mirror to Jihoon’s soul; his whole universe within. How it bears his pain, his desperateness, his yearning. How it bears the _truth_ that Woojin has been trying to run away from the whole time.  
  
“I’m sorry for having never said a word. But I don’t want to be sorry anymore and have regrets. Because… I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time already and the feeling never went away.”  
  
Wait. _What_.  
  
Almost as if the weather is matching the atmosphere deliberately, the breeze comes to a halt, and the small petals surrounding them are falling to their feet. Some land onto them and stick to their hair and Woojin can’t help but to pick one out from Jihoon’s strands reflexively.  
  
Jihoon looks up at Woojin with big eyes, sparkling from anticipation. If Woojin does take another look (and he certainly does), there might be a sheen of wetness stretching across the irises. And yet another look reveals the natural blush on Jihoon’s cheek is deeper in shade than usual, as well as the little trembles of his lips.  
  
“So, all this time…” Woojin finally, _finally_ , begins in a small voice, which instantly catches Jihoon’s attention. “...you actually liked me back?”  
  
Nodding cautiously but with an underlying note of bashfulness, Jihoon drops his gaze to hide his surge of shyness. It’s so unusual for him to become so small without an attempt to cover it up with snark, which makes it the more so obvious that he’s being very serious about his confession.  
  
Everything that Woojin has ever dreamt of becomes reality in such an unexpected twist of actions that he’s completely thrown out of the loop. Just a minute ago he was on the verge of exploding and now? Now he’s stunned into silence, rooted to his spot.  
  
He isn’t functioning normally anymore– goes by what his instinct tells him to do. His subconsciousness is yelling at him to kiss Jihoon, to make sure this is all real, to make up for lost time.  
  
Jihoon, however, is rational enough to knock Woojin slightly on the side of his head with his knuckles when the younger boy leans in dangerously close. They are, after all, two public figures who have an image to uphold. It can’t be helped albeit Woojin does give Jihoon a questioning look– only for the older boy to whisper _patience_ to him.  
  
“We can’t– not now.” And that is enough to pacify Woojin again and silence the loud, ugly voices in his head.  
  
They finally take on a friendly stance that doesn’t look intimate and might give off a wrong image. Breaking apart from each other, even if they couldn’t be any closer now. It isn’t _wrong_ what they have– but they do have to protect their hearts like they always did.  
  
“You know what. I’m hungry now after this fiasco.” Jihoon says in the least favorable moment, but Woojin just couldn’t care more. What matters is that they’ve finally resolved the tension that has been going strong for years now– they do deserve a treat.  
  
“It’s on me.” Woojin offers without leaving any room to argue and puts his arm around Jihoon’s shoulders casually; the barriers cracked down, nothing separating them anymore.  
  
“Is this a date?” A teasing question, but the huge smile in Jihoon’s voice is crystal-clear.  
  
His question brings a smile on Woojin’s lips as well that is brimming with nothing but happiness and they know– they finally know that they have taken right decision after all those years. “It’s what you want it to be.”  
  
The wind picks up again and puts them into a shower of cherry blossoms to celebrate the beginning of new love.  
  
A love that is blossoming into its most beautiful colors after it has been nipped in the bud for way too long.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/sagglxy) ♡
> 
> and as always, a big thank you to my beta reader and muse kelly, this would have never been finished without your help ♡


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